Luggage troubles
by Streaks of moonlight
Summary: Santana was beyond pissed. With her luggage missing and her flight leaving in less than 3 minutes, she had only one person to blame for her misfortune- Mister Eye Candy a.k.a Asian a.k.a Wes. Revenge was going to be sweet. WesTana.


Santana cursed as a ginormous man that looked as if he ate one too many french fries and burgers blocked her way. From where she stood, she could catch the faintest whiff of grease that emitted out of his pores. She narrowed her eyes into a fierce glare as a deep growl rumbled in her throat. She was already in a bad mood as it is and being blocked by Grease-Burger was certainly not helping to alleviate it.

"Get outta the fucking way," she snarled impatiently. Grease-Burger took the hint and immediately scrambled to safety, far away from her as humanly possible. Good freaking riddance. She snapped her neck back forward and continued to speed walk down the crowded stretch of the airport, her chocolate brown eyes glazed with fire as she scanned everyone's luggage around her.

Somehow, by some awfully poor chance of luck, she'd lost her luggage while waiting for it to show up in the baggage claim. Granted, she knew that she should have kept her eyes on the conveyor belt to retrieve her belongings, she just couldn't stand to see luggage after luggage tumble out one after another in a sickeningly slow pace. It was ridiculous, really. All she wanted to do was grab her shit and go but it would take a millennial and a half until her luggage would actually show up.

In hopes of keeping herself preoccupied (and to give her eyes a break since the constant movement of luggage was seriously giving her already sleep-deprived mind a headache), she settled on glancing around in pure boredom until she found someone worthy of being eye candy.

He was pretty good looking for an Asian. He had a handsome square jaw, and nicely tinted face that was neither too dark nor too light. It reminded her of the color of peanut butter, more or less. Her gaze shifted from his face to what he wore and she tried to imagine what it might look like underneath his coat. From the looks of it, there could actually be some muscle and at this she smirked at the thought of her fingers running up and down his ripples, pecs and toned arms. She prided herself in being a good judge of what laid underneath the mass of clothing and she was almost always never wrong.

Oh, if only she actually had the time to feel him up in one of the bathrooms in this place and test that theory.

Mister Eye Candy, feeling oddly violated and squeamish at the feel of someone undressing him with their eyes, turned his head to look at her but she had already averted her eyes away from him to see if her luggage had passed by yet. She crossed her arms and grit her teeth in annoyance. Goddamnit there was nothing even remotely similar to her luggage in sight! She relaxed, though, when she realized that hey, this means that she could indulge in her eye candy for a little while longer.

She turned her head again and was amused to find that he was staring at her as well. She faltered, though, as she realized that he didn't look as predatory like most men would whenever they laid eyes on her. Instead he looked… thoughtful, hell maybe even a little perplexed in a rather cute way. She raised a brow at him and in this moment, it seemed as if he had finally caught himself staring and actually looked at her with a sheepish grin. "Sorry for staring," his eyes seemed to say as his grin managed to make her heart flutter slightly.

Santana's eyes widened. Woah-ho-ho, what the hell was that? Shaking her head and giving him a glare for making her feel something akin to vulnerability, she broke their gaze and grabbed a random suitcase that looked like it might be hers.

Tch, she should have known better. Eye candies were nothing but trouble anyway.

As she stormed away and forcibly trying to erase her thoughts of him (and his hot body that she had mentally designed), she couldn't help but feel a nagging sense of familiarity of that face. She'd slept with guys every other day and never did bother to remember their face so maybe she'd have slept with him before? She considered this before shaking her head vehemently. Yeah, no. She would have remembered for sure if she had sex with him.

Then she paused mid-step and looked down at her suitcase. Or, at least, what she thought was her suitcase. In this moment, she realized that holy fuck this was not her suitcase and she needed her damn suitcase back since there was no way in hell was she leaving this airport without her clothing that she'd spent nearly all her money on just for this trip.

"It's all his fault," she hissed as she turned on her heel in a complete 180 and marched back to the baggage claim.

If he wasn't so much of an eye candy, then she would have gotten the right suitcase. Hell, if he hadn't made her heart do a disgusting foo fly, then maybe she wouldn't have gotten the wrong freaking suitcase!

First, she was going to make him pay. Then, she was going to find her shit. That is unless she made him buy new clothing first, including the thongs from Victoria Secret (wait, Guam had a Victoria Secret here somewhere, right?). She nodded her head at this, even though she knew that she would have to miss her flight if she was planning to go through with it. It wasn't a bad plan. Knowing how much men dreaded to go into women shops, he was going to suffer big time while he re-bought her clothing that she lost. Sweet. It was like killing two birds with a stone.

Even though the thought was enlightening, she was still pissed at the fact that she had been caught blind sided. It was a sting to her pride as the person who prided herself in being the one doing the distracting instead of being the distracted.

And hence the reason why she was storming around the airport like an enraged pregnant woman hunting down the father of the kid who had fled in hopes of avoiding her and the child.

"Move!" she all but snapped at a child who was merely sitting in the middle of the walkway. Who the hell were this kid's parents? Didn't they know better than to leave their kid sitting there like that? God, his parents were fucking morons.

The kid's lip trembled and he immediately burst into tears. Santana winced at the sound and frowned at the child. She had the option to either: a) calm this kid down before the security gets down there and blame her ass for being insensitive, or b) roll her eyes and walk away. Santana, being no saint, chose the latter option and easily side stepped her way around the kid to continue her hunt.

"Somebody get this kid his freakin' parents!" she yelled for the sake of yelling as she continued to walk, unperturbed. Okay now that felt pretty damn good.

Feeling refreshed, she dodged old ladies and pesky businessmen in uptight uniforms as she determinedly continued her trek for payback.

Her journey was awarded since up ahead, she caught a glimpse of Mister Eye Candy making his way through the crowd towards her as well. Their eyes met and while his reflected relief, hers reflected annoyance and a promise of sweet, sweet revenge.

"You," she regarded in an accusing tone once they were finally standing right in front of each other.

"Uh, me?" he returned, a bit confused at her hostility. Though, his eyes seemed to glimmer in something akin to amusement, as if he was pleased to see her so pissed off. Oh, pretty boy better wipe that look off his face or she sure as hell was going to do it for him.

"No shit, you're the one I'm looking at, Sherlock," she spat, refraining from stepping on his foot or giving him a good slap in the head. She glanced down at his luggage and he did the same, though instead he was looking at the luggage that she held in her hand.

"That's mine!" they both shouted simultaneously. They looked back up at each other and Santana frowned.

"How the hell do you know this is yours?" she asked suspiciously. He had better not be pulling a cheesy move like she'd seen in those sappy romantic movies where the couple had mistakenly grabbed each others luggage by mistake.

"I could say the same for you. For all I know, you could be a luggage-thief," he replied patiently. At this Santana snorted.

"Oh please, like I would steal other people's thongs. What's your excuse?"

"Fair point. Mines as my name on it," he smirked. Santana froze and looked down at the baggage in her hand. Huh, would you look at that. It had his name written as plain as day on an I.D tag. She must have been so blinded in her rage that she had totally overlooked it.

"Wes?" she commented with a wrinkle of her nose in disgust that Wes found to be quite adorable. "What kind of name is Wes?"

"The kind of name that's on that I.D of my luggage. Now will you please give it to me? My flight is leaving in less than five minutes."

Santana shook her head and held the luggage away from her as Wes reached out a hand for her to give the luggage.

"Uh-uh, you ain't getting this baby back."

Wes paused. "Why not?"

"Because you made me go on a freaking stupid goose chase looking for you," she stated with a glare as if this was all his fault, which, in her book, it technically was.

He blinked. "But how would you have known that I had your luggage?"

"I didn't!" she hissed, exasperated. God, she needed a drink.

Wes glanced at his watch and bit his lip. At this rate he was going to miss his flight. Santana on the other hand, could care less. Her flight had long gone left her 10 minutes ago.

"Look, I'm sorry for this mess. Really, I am," he said, trying to clear this up quickly so that he could just go. As amusing as it was to see the many colors of this familiar Latina, he still had a busy schedule to return to.

"Damn straight," she muttered. "But 'sorry' isn't going to cut it, Asian."

Looks like he wasn't going to be leaving anytime soon. "Then what do you want me to do?" he asked with a sigh although he was curious.

Santana paused and looked at him thoughtfully. Well, now that she'd gotten her luggage back (more or less, since he was actually still holding onto it), making him buy her thongs and push-up bras were certainly out of question. Oh god this was giving her a headache again. Ooh, maybe there was another alternative to getting her undergarments.

"You're treating me on a shopping spree here. Where's the nearest mall in Guam?"

"Wait, what?" Wes asked. What in the world? Was she practically forcing him to miss his flight?

"Get a hearing aid, old man. I said that you're treating me on a shopping spree. You look rich enough," she stated, looking him up and down as she noticed the costly shoes and watch that peeked through the sleeve of his coat.

"I'm 24," he corrected almost defensively. "And you're never going to let me go until I relent, are you?"

Santana smirked. "I'm thinking of Gucci sunglasses…" she trailed off as she began a mental list of what she would be buying.

"But it's still winter!"

"Oh bite me," she retorted with a sharp glare.

Wes sighed. She sure was something, he'd give her that. Reaching in his pocket, he took out his Iphone and immediately made reservations for a hotel seeing as how long she was going to probably keep him here. And being the gentleman that he was, he reserved a room for her as well. He'd have to call David later to cancel his schedule for the next several days because God knows how long she was going to keep him grounded here.

"Come on, there's a hotel near by that we should go to," he said as he began to finish up the application. Santana narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Wes glanced up at her. "What?"

"Making me stay in a hotel with you? Sounds kinda sketchy, Asian."

"No, 'sketchy' is cute Latina girls holding me back against my flight for her own sheer enjoyment."

"Hah, I'm not letting you go anytime soon until I get my Gucci. Nice try, kiss-up."

Wes shrugged but couldn't help a smirk wander its way on his face. "You'll be staying in a separate room," he said.

Santana considered this. Okay, maybe Asian-boy wasn't so bad. He did submit rather easily which was good for the sake of her poor headache and she really did need some sleep right now. Hey, maybe if she kept him in her hold long enough, he'd get her new plane tickets too considering that her round-trip ticket was now practically a waste since she'd missed her flight.

"Fine. You'd better have a full wallet because I'm not gonna go easy on you just because you're letting me stay in a hotel."

"Sadly, I already had a feeling that you won't be even if I didn't reserve a room for you."

Santana snickered. Already a few minutes of meeting her and already he knew her as well as any of the other bitches back in high school. Yeah, she was gonna have fun with this.

* * *

**A/N: Ayy guys :D I fell inlove with this ship about a year ago and have been planning to contribute some sort of fanfiction for the sake of adding more stories into this underrated crackship. I hope I did their characters justice since the last I saw Glee was over a year ago. **

**So yee, this is just a little one-shot that I wanted to try out since I saw something on tumblr that made me jump into this. I'm thinking about turning it into a story but ehhh I'm still not sure yet. I might? I probably might not? Idunno, if the attention is great I probably just might. Whale, that's all I've got to say. Thanks for reading C:**

**Also, I've only worked on this for a few hours so it may be slightly confusing since I was pretty much trying to go with the flow of the story. I'll edit it it later to make it more sensible later c:**

**Reviews and favorites are always gladly appreciated!**

**\- Streaks**


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